The New President
by Kylestra
Summary: Murcania has elected itself a new president and the most influential people in Ankh-Morpork must decide what to make of him.
1. Chapter 1

The New President

Summary: Murcania has elected itself a new president and the most influential people in Ankh-Morpork must decide what to make of him.

Disclaimer: The Discworld belongs to Terry Pratchett. Any resemblance to any person living, dead or currently holding the highest seat of power in a rich, developed country is absolutely intended.

* * *

 _You can't trust any bugger further than you can throw him,_

 _and there's nothing you can do about it,_

 _so let's have a drink._

 _-Terry Pratchett_

Inside the Patrician's palace several men with serious, concerned looks on their faces gathered around a large table. "They've elected a new president in Murcania." The Patrician of Ankh-Morpork Lord Havelock Vetinari spoke calmly and quietly giving his assembled audience no clue to whether or not he considered this a good thing.

"I've heard he's..." Lord Downey of the Assassins' Guild chose his words carefully. "Inventive."

Lord Vetinari nodded. "That is a word that has also been used to describe me."

"With all due respect sir..." Archchancellor Ridcully of the Unseen University spoke in the tone of voice of someone who knew perfectly well that anyone using the phrase 'with all due respect' usually meant the opposite. "You can be very inventive sir."

"I heard he did not in fact get the most votes, yet somehow he still won." Mr. Slant, head of the Guild of Lawyers smiled as he spoke, a devilish, calculating smile, which seemed to suggest he was filing this information away for later use.

"Yes, I do believe this is true." The Patrician was not opposed to democracy as such, as long as the only person getting the vote was him.

"He is also said to be a liar." Hughnon Ridcully, High priest of Blind Io, was morally opposed to lying, naturally. Practically though, was another matter entirely.

"I wouldn't put it like that." The lawyer interjected. "He's merely offering...alternate truths."

"He is a politician." The Patrician pointed out. All assembled at the table nodded. "He has also alluded to laws that would make it more difficult for outsiders to trade with Murcania." The Patrician continued.

"His motto I believe is Murcania first, which is a completely understandable sentiment of course." Mr. Slant offered. "But perhaps we could persuade him to make Ankh-Morpork second?"

"Do we even want to trade with Murcania?" Commander Samual Vimes of the Ankh-Morpork City Watch asked. "Isn't he trying to ban Klatchians from entering Murcania?"

"You make a fair point commander." The Patrician conceded. "If he so callously breaks with Klatch, what insurance do we have that he won't do the same to us."

Vimes shook his head. "That wasn't really what I meant." He was met with blank stares from around the table. "Never mind."

"I don't understand why he's that colour." Hughnon Ridcully exclaimed. Although it is true that Ankh-Morpork harbours a multi-coloured society, this does not however, equate to tolerance. Black and white will live together in perfect harmony, but gang up together on green.

"I have wondered about his colouring, it is possible that he is of the undead persuasion and in an attempt to appear living, simply overdid it with the colouring." Mr. Slant suggested.

"The man rants and raves at journalists and when they report that he rants and raves he calls them liars." Archchancellor Ridcully shook his head. "Sounds to me like the man could use some of those dried frog pills the bursar takes."

"Archchancellor, did you just call a friendly neighbouring statesman a lunatic?" The Patrician inquired calmly.

Ridcully managed to look affronted. "My lord, are you suggesting I keep an insane person on as a member of my staff?"

Vetinari smiled. "Indeed I am." Ridcully simply shrugged at this.

"The man has said horrible things about women." Vimes tried once again to appeal to some moral integrity on the other occupants of the table's part.

"About particular women, or women in general?" The High Priest asked carefully.

"Both." Vimes snapped, deciding to be outraged on the behalf of women everywhere.

"That seems to me a rather unhelpful strategy during a campaign." Lord Downey observed.

"Indeed, women are valued members of society." Hughnon Ridcully said and Samuel Vimes let out a sigh of relief to know there was at least a shred of morality present at the table. The High Priest opened his mouth again and Vimes realized he judged too soon. "After all, who else will do the cooking and the cleaning." He finished. The other occupants around the table nodded as Vimes dropped his head into his hands and decided to give up.

"Sir, do you wish the Assassins' Guild to take proactive measures where this new president is concerned?" Lord Downey inquired tactfully.

The Patrician folded his hands and smiled. "An amusing idea Lord Downey, but I like this new president, he could prove to be useful."

"Useful sir?" Vimes asked confused.

The Patrician nodded. "Oh yes, there's two as can play this game commander, and I have been playing it for a lot longer."

"All I'll say about it is that I'm glad he's not in charge of Ankh-Morpork." Archchancellor Ridcully said.

"Excellent." Vetinari stood up. "Thank you for a very enlightening meeting gentlemen." The Patrician motioned towards the door.

"Uhm, that's it? You do not wish to take any legal measures my lord?" Mr. Slant asked with a frown.

The Patrician shook his head. "No, no need for that yet, and let's hope it won't have to come to that either."

Mr. Slant wrung his hands together and muttered. "Let's hope it does." Then he smiled at the Patrician. "Very well your excellency."

"Gentlemen, I'm sure you have much more pressing matters to attend, please don't let me detain you any longer." Vetinari said pleasantly and once again motioned for the door.

The men exchanged confused looks, nothing seemed to have been decided, but when the Patrician once again motioned for the door, they quickly took their leave.

Everyone filed out of the room quietly, when the last one had departed Rufus Drumknott, Vetinari's chief clerk softly closed the door behind him and turned towards his master. "Did you have a productive meeting my lord?"

The patrician sauntered over to the window and looked out over Ankh-Morpork. "It'll be interesting to see what this new president is going to do, I'll be keeping a close eye on him."

Drumknott cleared his throat nervously. "If you don't mind me saying sir, there is an old saying sir, it goes: better the devil you know."

Vetinari turned to his clerk and nodded. "It is a good saying, but I would improve on it by saying that the devil you choose is even better."

The End.

* * *

Please forgive me for this, I just had to.


	2. Everything acodidi in Murcania?

**The New President**

Summary: Murcania has elected itself a new president and the most influential people in Ankh-Morpork must decide what to make of him.

Disclaimer: The Discworld belongs to Terry Pratchett. Any resemblance to any person living, dead or currently holding the highest seat of power in a rich, developed country is absolutely intended.

* * *

 **Everything acodidi in Murcania?**

 _The pen is mightier than the sword_

 _if the sword is very short,_

 _and the pen is very sharp._

 _\- Terry Pratchett_

"The papers criticism of acodidi..." Drumknott stared at the paper he'd just been handed. "Was there a malfunction of the clacks?" He ventured hopefully.

The man shook his head."No sir, we thought it was odd too, so we checked, but that is the exact transcription of the message that was send."

"Right." Drumknott stared some more. "What does it mean?"

The man shrugged. "Beats me sir, I just deliver the messages, don't much care what it means sir."

"Right." Drumknott repeated. "Yes, thank you, you can go now."

The man retreated with an audible sigh of relief. Drumknott shook his head and turned to find his master.

He found him sitting behind his desk staring pointedly at nothing.

Drumknott cleared his throat. "Excuse me my lord, but we have received a clacks from the president of Murcania."

A calculating smile appeared on the patrician's face. It made Drumknott nervous.

"Excellent, what does my esteemed colleague have to say?"

Drumknott stared at the paper.

"Well?" The patrician gestured for Drumknott to read the message.

Drumknott cleared his throat again, then read:"The papers criticism of acodidi."

The smile was replaced with a look of confusion. "Was there some sort of malfunction with the clacks?

Drumknott shook his head. "No sir, I asked, they checked."

The Patrician motioned for Drumknott to give him the paper.

"I don't know what it means sir." Drumknott said as he handed the note over.

"The papers criticism of acodidi." The Patrician read aloud. "Is this the whole message, are you sure there's not more?"

"That's all he sent sir." Drumknott assured.

"Acodidi? Is it a Murcanish word?" The Patrician tried to make sense of it.

"Not that I know of sir."

The Patrician stared at the paper. "Is it an acronym? Or maybe a codeword?"

"If it is he forgot to inform us about its meaning." Drumknott reminded his master. "Should I send a return clacks asking him to clarify?"

The Patrician nodded. "Yes." Then immediately shook his head "No."

"Yes or no, which is it sir?"

"No." The Patrician repeated. " We don't want to seem ignorant."

With all due respect sir..." Drumknott ventured. "We are ignorant in this instance, I have no idea what acodidi means."

"Still, no need to broadcast that fact." The Patrician pointed out.

"So what do we do sir?"

"For now nothing." The patrician nodded seemingly satisfied with his decision. "Wait to see if there are any more messages from Murcania."

Drumknott handed the Patrician the morning paper with trepidation. "You should read this sir."

The Patrician took the paper. _'Everything acodidi in Murcania?'_ The headline on the front page questioned in bold letters. "How did they find out about the message?" The Patrician all but growled.

Drumknott swallowed thickly "I suggest you read on sir."

"Yesterday the president of Murcania sent a clacks to our Patrician containing only one line: _The papers critisism of acodidi._ A malfunction of the clacks was assumed, but after a thorough check the conclusion was that there was nothing wrong with the clacks." The Patrician read aloud. "This strange message caught our attention and our foreign correspondent asked the president's staff for clarification. Someone close to the president has ensured our correspondent that those who need to know, know what acodidi means."

"It seems someone in Murcania thinks we should know what acodidi means." Drumknott offered.

The Patrician threw the paper on his desk forcefully. "Or it was a mistake and they're just covering it up by saying they meant to say that all along." The Patrician shook his head. "Never attribute to malice what can also be attributed to stupidity."

Drumknott opened his mouth to respond when a knock sounded on the door. Before Drumknott could open the door it was pushed open and a woman marched into the office.

"Good morning gentlemen, you may remember me, I'm Sacharissa Cripslock from the Ankh-Morpork Times."

The Patrician smiled a somewhat forced smile. "Miss Cripslock, what a pleasure, I was just perusing this morning's edition."

"Excellent, then you already know that the president of Murcania was so kind as to offer us his take on the situation, would you care to comment as well my lord?" A paperpad was held at the ready in one hand, a pen poised to write in the other as she stared at the Patrician expectantly.

"Of course." The Patrician started. "First of all might I start in saying what an excellent job my esteemed colleague is doing in Murcania, even though he has only been president for a short time, he has already showed himself a born leader."

The pen scribbled furiously. "And this acodidi business, according to the presidents staff, you know what it means."

She stared a little too knowingly as far as the Patrician was concerned. "Correspondence between two leaders of such influential places must always be regarded with great care, and frankly the fact that you so easily intercepted it concerns me greatly."

"That as may be, but the question remains, what does acodidi mean?" She asked never changing her expression.

"As your source in Murcania has already informed you, those that need to know, do." The Patrician echoed the line from the paper.

Sacharissa flipped over a page in her notebook. "Is there anything else you would like to say on the issue?"

"I think too much has already been said on this issue." The Patrician told her and motioned for Drumknott to escort her to the door.

Sacharissa was not so easily brushed off though. "Do you have any comment on the rumours that the new president of Murcania might have had an affair with... a lady of 'less than pure virtue'?"

The patrician put on a mask of innocence, it was not a look he was particularly good at, or one that suited him. "I'm sure I have no idea what you are referring too, as far as I know the president of Murcania is happily married to a very beautiful wife from Borogravia."

"I suspected as much." Sacharissa said. "Thank you for your time sir." And after a nod from the Patrician she marched off through the door held open by a nervous looking Drumknott.

As soon the door closed behind her the Patrician asked. "How long is a president's term in Murcania?"

"I believe it's four years sir."

The Patrician got up from his desk with a sigh. "It's going to be a long four years."

Drumknott cleared his throat once more. "I do believe it is possible for the president of Murcania to serve a second term."

The Patrician grimaced. "Let's get Mr. Slant to brush up on his Murcanish laws, just in case."

Drumknott nodded. "Good idea sir."

The end.

* * *

Sigh, a long four years indeed...


End file.
